Art and Emotion
by WontYouLightMyCandle
Summary: A short modern!Les Mis AU one shot. After being given the prompt "Eponine x Enjolras - Eponine is a struggling artist and Enjolras is her model" in a fanfic war this is what I came up with...Also I'm not totally happy with this – I'm really not great at writing Enjolras but I tried and that's all that matters. Please read and review :)


**After being given the prompt "Eponine x Enjolras - Eponine is a struggling artist and Enjolras is her model" this is what I came up with...Enjoy… Also I'm not totally happy with this – I'm really not great at writing Enjolras but I tried and that's all that matters **

**If you enjoy please leave a review...if you don't please let me know how I can improve – especially how to improve Enjolras. Love the ship but can't write him very well :D**

Xxx

It was the fourth hour he'd been sitting on that bloody stool and she still wasn't happy with the nights progress. He hated modelling for his girlfriend's paintings. He needed to be spending his time getting the word out there to get to the people that would be inspired to join the crusade, to turn the whispers of revolution into deafening shouts that would bring the unjust government to its knees. To make the fact cats of the royal family finally take notice of the _people_! The human lives that they were destroying every day by-

"Stop moving!" Her rough voice snapped him from his thoughts.

"I didn't move Eponine for the _hundredth time_!" He grumbled, even now just wanting to stroke the annoying strand of hair that was in his face.

"You moved! The shadows have changed!"

Her dark eye turning up from the painting to stare straight at him with an intensity that was unnerving. Her long, slender legs unfolded from under her and she got up from her stool "It used to be here…" she drew a gentle line from his nose to just under his eye with her fingertip "but now it's here…" her hand caressed his jawline. His skin was cool to the touch yet at the same time it was not unpleasant. She always taken aback by just how soft his face was, she kept expecting a marble like feel to match the appearance but it was soft, gentle even. In comparison he was always shocked by the heat radiating from her body. He always expected her thin form to be like ice to the touch rather than fire. He was also still getting used to the roughness of her skin touching his face, the firmness of her grip on his cheek. She knew what she wanted and knew how to achieve her goals. Her smell surrounded him, the smell of paint and coffee mixed with cigarettes. It was a smell that once irritated him, now he adored it- even if he refused to admit it to her.

She grinned that mischievous smile at him once again "So don't move Enjolras…because I can tell…" she gently kissed him on the lips before once again going back to her canvas.

He loved her most watching her paint. It was the passion in her speech, how the love for what she did escaped from every pour. It was easy to see why she was willing to live in bad neighbourhood, in a shitty apartment – she wouldn't be alive if she couldn't paint, even though she barely sold enough to cover her costs. When she painted she was alive. Wild and delirious. Starting with eager strokes to get the colour down then calming when she got to the intricate details, working on those for what felt like hours at a time.

He looked up to watch her work once again. He was struck by her eyes. Big and dark with a mischievous glint, her curly hair that was everywhere, various strands covered in paint of all colours like odd highlights. She caught him staring and her lips curved into a big smile. "You moved again…" all he could focus on was the way her lips moved to form the words. "I would have expected more stillness from the supposed 'marble statue'."

"Excuse me?!" then it clicked "Did you talk to Grantaire?"

She laughed "He did indeed. I'm an old friend from art school. It was actually his idea to paint you. He thought you'd suit the style I paint in…"

He looked around, looking and actually seeing her work for the first time. The various canvases were laying around and the open sketch books that covered every surface. Papers were forming a carpet across the floor. Briefly glancing at her work he was taken aback. She was good. Really good. Her work was playful yet at the same time so delicate and detailed that he initially believed them to be large photographs.

"Those are shit." She whispered, noticing him staring gently biting her lip and reaching around her for a tube of paint.

"They're beautiful and you know it" He grunted, only just managing to hold back a smile. Not wanting to take the bait of her compliment fishing.

She just managed to hold back laughter, seeing the way his brow knotted as he tried to present an air of stony indifference. "There is a reason they don't sell Monsuier."

"Some people just don't appreciate good art anymore…"

She grinned blushed slightly, quickly releasing her hair from its pony tail to try and hide the red creeping up her cheeks. He let out a laugh. "Don't talk shit to me Enjolras."

He stood up and looked at her with a fondness that was reserved only for her "I don't lie Eponine. Not to you. Not to anyone. It's about time you realized that…"

"Sometimes I think you're the only person I can trust because of that…" she smiled fondly up at him.

Suddenly he was next to her pulling her close. Grabbing onto her waist and pulling her close. His mouth collided with hers in a fiery, passionate kiss. His chest was surprisingly defined, with strong rippling shoulders and abs. She couldn't resist him when his golden hair was tousled that glorious chest on full display and that sexy indifferent smirk on his lips even in sleep. She felt a rush of heat inside her that only he could inspire. It was partly lust yes, but although she was yet to tell him she felt so much more for him than just the primal urges.

He pulled her closer lips parting as the kiss became more passionate. He was weirdly enjoying the way her scrawny figure pressed up against his chest; he could feel the soft, worn out cotton of the paint splattered shirt under his hands. His heart was pounding against his chest, whilst hers fluttered against her rib cage.

Suddenly something cold splattered against his chest. He looked down and saw a large blob of blue covering his collar bone. He looked down at his girlfriend. His sexy, infuriating girlfriend who was giggling underneath him. "You just flicked paint at me didn't you." He stated blankly, almost to the point of stupidity.

She flicked the brush at him again. Blue splattering across his chest. "You're like a sexy smurf!" she whispered, sounding oddly seductive considering the content of her words. "A very. Sexy. Smurf." Her lips were reaching up, gently brushing his neck with tiny warm kisses.

"Smurfs aren't sexy! They're tiny blue communists!" He was trying not to laugh but resistance was futile, his chuckles escaped with such force his shoulders moved.

"I love when you talk about the political ideology of shitty kids cartoons!" she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck and gently kissing him on the lips, how on earth could a woman sound so sexy talking about such ridiculous subject matter!

"Don't insult the Smurfs…They were working together towards a common goal…" but he was laughing so hard that he could barely get the words out. He reached down to kiss her again but something stopped him.

"I love you."

It had shot out of her mouth before she had time to realize what she was doing. Why on earth had she just said that?! There was just something about the two of them. Alone, the warm glow of the sunset streaming through the windows. His smile, the way she was looking at him. GOD THE THING THAT MADE HER SAY I LOVE YOU WAS SMURF COMMUNISM! She set the brush down and somehow. Somehow willed herself to look back up at him "I love you." She repeated, her voice trembling with anticipation and perhaps fear. It was too soon. They'd only been dating a few months. _Way to look desperate Eponine…_

He looked down at her for a moment. The words upon his tongue. It didn't need saying and yet at the same time it did. When she said it, his feelings revealed themselves with perfect clarity. "Love you too."


End file.
